﻿Moving Day by Larry KingRecently, I helped a friend move— a job I’ve done many times. Over the years, I’ve noticed many consistencies during “moving day” and can imagine how it might have gone back in the day. Way back in the day. Caveman days… “Hey everyone, thanks for helping us,” said Oog. “Maki and I really appreciate you coming out early on a Farnsook morning.” “Yeah, you guys are the best!” piped up Maki. “We’ll always remember you as the gang that helped us move into our first cave together. I can finally be officially hair-dragged over the threshold! Anyway, everyone here was at the wedding, so you probably remember each other.” “Heck, I barely remember who was at the wedding,” snickered Oog. “What an invention that rotted-berry dizzy juice is!” “Whatever,” said Maki, rolling her eyes. “You remember my brothers, Dook, Mook, and Luke.” “Huuhh,” grunted the trio huddled around a table. “These are excellent nutclumps, Maki,” said Dook, popping one into his mouth. “It’s the least I could do,” Maki replied. “And after we’re done with the move, we’ll get some take-out mastodon ribs, and we’ve got a few holders of dizzy juice left over.” A chorus of happy grunts greeted this news. “Men. You just looooove your food and drink,” said the second woman. “Sorry, Miss. It’s part of what drives us,” said Mook. “Weren’t you one of Maki’s bridesmaids? I’m sorry, but I forgot your name. What is it again?” “Jennifer.” “That’s right! I recall it was an unusual and interesting name.” “My parents,” sighed Jennifer. “Free-thinkers.” “Well ‘Jennifer’,” nodded Mook, smiling. “Who knows, maybe it’ll catch on. So Oog, where’s the new place?” “Just south of the tar pits. My uncle got me a job at the spear factory. I’ll just be doing shafts to start, but hope one day to be a stonehead chipper.” “Excellent! And that’s not far from here. What kind of moving vehicle did you get?” “I got a two-ox sled. I didn’t think we had enough for a four-oxer.” “A two-oxer should work,” said Luke. “Though it’ll probably take two trips. I see a lot of animal skins piled over there.” “Don’t get me started on all her furs,” mumbled Oog. “Or else I’ll get started on all his tools,” snorted Maki. “How many different sized bone-hammers does one need?” “Forget I said anything,” said Luke. “So, what’s the plan?” “Jennifer and I are going to the new place with the fragile stuff,” answered Maki. “But we need one of the guys to bring the goat-sled over when it’s loaded. Volunteers?” “Me!” blurted Mook. “I mean, sure, I can go with you two.” “Okay, Mook,” said Oog. “But you’re going to have to bring the firebox, too. And you cannot let that go out. Sure you can handle it?” “Promise.” “Good. You know what a hassle it is to get a restart. Of course, they charge you every time. Then after everything is out of this place, we’re going to have to chisel our really long painting out of the wall.” “The Hunt?” “Yeah. I swear if I’d known two years ago that everybody and their brother would get it, too, I would have passed. Although, it is a modern classic.” “Speaking of classic,” interjected Luke. “Is your music system packed?” “Actually, we moved that last night. Both of my drums, all the blowsticks, and Maki’s stringers are already there.” “I bet your new neighbors loved seeing all that coming in.” “Why do you think we moved it at night?” “Smart. Now, I see a lot of holders labeled ‘books’. Please don’t tell me those are granite versions.” “Sorry, but yeah. We haven’t converted.” “Seriously? You guys have got to move to clay tablets. Maybe even make the leap to bark.” “And as soon as we get all new versions in either clay or bark, they’ll come out with something new. Granite may be heavy, but it’s stable and won’t fade, which is a big issue with the newer technologies.” “Enough geek-talk!” said Maki. “We haven’t got all day. Plus, the sky was red before sunrise, so it’ll probably rain soon. Let’s get moving! Pun intended.” So the next time I’m backing down a staircase, precariously holding onto the corner of an oddly-shaped vanity mirror, or innocently open what I assume is an empty dresser drawer and instead find unpacked unmentionables, I’ll take comfort in the fact that it’s been happening for centuries. And I’ll still avoid those heavy boxes labeled “books”.Back to Larry's Page